It Looks Strange

Wednesday, November 9

We have a ginkgo tree growing a few feet from our driveway. I don’t pay much attention to it, except in autumn. That tree’s leaves turn a beautiful shade of yellow then, embarrassing the pecan trees around it, with their crunchy brown leaves.

I loved our ginkgo before I knew it was a ginkgo. It was not big, reaching only ten or twelve feet tall, but it was straight and healthy. I liked its shape, and it’s branches did not sag and get in my way. I didn’t know it was a ginkgo.

You see, I have history with ginkgo trees. Swarthmore College, where I got my undergraduate degree, has several large ginkgo trees. They are planted along the path that leads from the dormitory I lived in, three out of four years at Swarthmore. I hated those trees!

The fruit of a ginkgo tree is very soft, with a paper-thin skin. When it falls to the earth, it squishes, bursting the skin. One dictionary stated that the fruit of the ginkgo “smells like rancid butter or vomit.” Swarthmore students hated walking past the ginkgo trees while they were fruiting. We didn’t like the smell, and had to take great care not to step on the fruit and carry the odor with us.

So when I was told our little tree was a ginkgo, I was dismayed. I informed my wife how bad the tree would smell, and that we’d likely have to cut it down. It was just a matter of time.

The fruit never came. It turns out that our tree is a ‘male’ and will never produce fruit. I should know better than to ‘judge a book by its cover.’

I wonder if some folks that don’t know me, here in town, think I’m a bum. I often go to the post office and Dollar General in a dirty t-shirt and stained jeans, taking a break from working in the yard or some other project. A lot of folks know me, and that I “clean up pretty good,” but not everybody.

“Man looks on the outward appearance, but God looks on the heart.” I Samuel 16:7